


Black is the Color

by DreadNaught13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7664362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadNaught13/pseuds/DreadNaught13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Season 1:<br/>After being separated by Haggar's corruption of the wormhole, the Paladins and their Lions make it back to the castle. But all is not well with Shiro. When Haggar druidic magic threatens to overwhelm the Black Paladin, it's up to Keith and the others to bring him home safe. If they can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've been kicking around for a bit. There will be Galra Keith at some point--I'll tag it when it happens.

 

Keith shivered as he staggered out of the healing pod. He felt like he’d been hung upside down and beaten with a sock filled with frozen sticks of butter, but the worst of his injuries from his fight with Zarkon and his trip through the wormhole had healed. He nodded gratefully at Coran who wrapped him in a warm blanket before helping him sit down on the steps right outside of his pod.

“Thanks,” he said, voice hoarse from disuse.

“I told you not to fight Zarkon,” Coran said, staring down at Keith with disapproval. Well, looks like Keith was done resting. He wondered how long the Altean had been sitting on that little ‘I told you so.’ At least Coran’s voice didn’t contain the shrill spike of panic that it had over the comms all those weeks ago.

“Not now, Coran,” he responded, rubbing at his temples. He could feel a headache building behind his eyes, exhaustion tugging at him. The healing pods did an excellent job of handling injuries, but they weren’t exactly restful. Keith had barely slept in the weeks on his own while he’d waited for rescue; he could still feel the bone weariness pull at him. “Please.”

Coran frowned, the ends of his mustache twitching. Keith could see that the man still wanted to call him out on his behavior when they’d gone to rescue the princess. He was not in the mood for it, not right now.

Not when they still hadn’t found Lance.

Or Shiro.

“It was reckless,” Coran chided, apparently not done. Keith’s headache grew at an exponential rate. “And foolhar—”

“Why didn’t you tell us that Zarkon was the Black Paladin?” Keith interrupted. “He had the black bayard.”

Coran’s mouth snapped shut. His eyes were round and wide. Keith saw the tips of his pointed ears twitch. “Well?” Keith said, staring up at Coran, fingers clutching the blanket tight. There was a black hole in the center of him, an aching emptiness in the shape of Shiro. He did not want to hear Coran’s lectures.

He’d just gotten his friend back and now he’d lost him again.

Before the silence became oppressive, Keith spoke again. He liked Coran, despite the man’s strangeness and he didn’t enjoy making people uncomfortable, even though he did it inadvertently a lot of the time. “Where are the others?” he asked, changing the subject to something much less likely to end in a shouting match.

Coran’s expression turned grateful, obviously not ready to discuss Zarkon’s mysterious history with Voltron. He seemed relieved for the opportunity to talk about something—anything—else. Keith listened, hoping for good news or at least distraction from his dark thoughts.

“Young Pidge is helping Allura search for signs of the Black Lion. Hunk has gone down to the planet to retrieve Lance and Blue Lion. We found their signal not long after you went into the pod.”

Keith nodded, relieved that at least one problem was resolved. “How long was I out?”

“Fifty-six of your Earth hours according to the pod,” Coran answered, checking the stats on the ship’s medical console. “I’m getting some odd readings from the pod’s analysis of your genetic makeup though. Are you certain you feel all right?”

Keith stretched with a yawn. He was way too out of it to even try and make sense of the medical gobbledygook Coran might start spouting. “Yeah, I feel fine. Just tired.”

“That’s to be expected. Healing takes a lot out of you.” Coran turned back to the console’s panel. “Very strange. I’ll have to look into it when I have some down time. It’s possible the ship’s systems still aren’t at one hundred percent.”

Tuning out the Altean’s muttering, Keith’s thoughts turned inward. Red had been in bad shape when they’d finally come out of the wormhole to land on some random planet within one of the Galran systems. He’d been lucky to crash in a remote part of the inhospitable place, so he hadn’t been discovered, but the atmosphere and environment weren’t good for long forays outside of Red. He hadn’t been able to do much foraging for food and water, let alone spend time trying to make repairs to his Lion.

Shrugging off the blanket, Keith went to his room. He needed a shower desperately—the grit and sweat of those weeks stranded had embedded themselves in his skin. Washed and dressed in fresh set of clothes, Keith went to the repair bay to check on Red. He moved slowly, carefully, without his usual grace or speed. He wanted to rest but the pull to see Red, to make sure she was going to be okay with his own eyes was too great.

He should have known it wouldn’t be pretty. Red had been badly banged up when they’d crashed out of the wormhole—Keith had seen that when he crawled around her on the planet where they’d been stranded. But to see it now, here, in the bright lights of the Castle made it that much more real.

Walking forward, Keith rested his head against one of his Lion’s metal legs. “I’m sorry, Red,” he whispered, sending the emotion down the link between them. He wouldn’t blame Red for being furious with him. He’d let her down. He’d let everyone down.

A hot tightness gathered in his chest. Tears burned behind his eyelids as he pressed his forehead into the metal joint to the point of pain. Keith felt like he was teetering on the edge of a very high cliff, with nothing below him to break his inevitable fall.

A rumbling purr ghosted down his link to Red. Comforting warmth filled him. Red was a soothing presence at the back of his mind. She told him in impressions and pictures that she was not disappointed in him; far from it. She was glad he’d fought Zarkon and proud that he had stood up to the maniac who had killed the other paladins and threatened Black. Keith sagged in relief as he felt the equivalent of a psychic hug from his prickly partner.

“Thanks, Red.”

In response, Red lowered her head, mindful of the robotics still working on piecing her back together, and opened her mouth. Keith climbed inside gratefully, curling up in the pilot’s seat for some much needed rest. Red purred steadily in his head, the warmth of her regard like a blanket he could curl up inside.

His last thought before sleep took him was of finding Shiro. He wouldn’t stop until the Black Lion and her paladin were back where they belonged.

With him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had to fly to New Orleans to get ready for a conference I'm attending in October and then I had writing deadlines. Hopefully I'm back on track with regular updates. Argh.

The Castle of Lions blasted out of the wormhole above the planet that the Black Lion’s distress signal emanated from, guns primed for action. Pidge and Hunk were in their lions, while Keith was forced to wait with Allura in the control room since Red was still being repaired. Lance had only just come out of the pod—mostly in for dehydration and malnutrition—and was waiting in his hangar in case things went south.

They’d found Shiro.

Keith didn’t look—couldn’t look—at Allura. It was all he could do to hold in his anxious jitters. If he met the princess’s gaze, he was certain she’d be able to see how concerned he was, how much he needed Shiro to be okay. Clenching his hands into fists so tight his knuckles ached, Keith forced himself to relax. He settled for looking at the scans of the planet.

“Any sign of Galra presence?” he asked, a note of confusion creeping into his voice. They were deep in the heart of Galra territory, so there was bound to be some ships out on patrol.

“Nothing,” Allura answered, eyes on the scanners. “I’m not picking up anything hostile.” She turned her head so she was looking at Keith over her shoulder. “I don’t like it.”

Keith nodded, the word _trap_ echoing inside of his head and sitting unspoken between them. “Maybe we just got lucky.”

“You don’t believe that and neither do I,” Allura said, giving him an amused look. Raising an eyebrow, she continued. “Unless you are developing a sense of humor?”

“I think Lance has enough for both of us,” he replied, giving the princess a small smile. He liked Allura—she was strong, capable, and fearless. When he’d suggested that going to rescue her might not be such a great idea, it hadn’t been because he hadn’t wanted to try, it had been because he’d respected her choices. She’d have been the first to tell them how dangerous it was to bring Voltron within Zarkon’s grasp, the first to protest what they were doing.

Now he wondered if that wasn’t because she knew exactly what Zarkon was—or at least had been.

Allura used the long range scans to do a quick pass of the planet only to turn up nothing. Keith watched the screens, feeling the tension in his gut ratchet up a notch. The niggling feeling in the back of his mind nagged at him. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t see anything that was outright _wrong_. Keith chewed on the corner of his lip.

“Should I send in Yellow and Green?” he asked Allura.

He heard her sigh and turned his head to look at her. Her thin brows were knitted with concern, shimmering eyes dark with worry. “Have Hunk go in to retrieve Shiro and Black Lion. Pidge can wait in atmosphere.”

Keith nodded and hit the comms that would carry to the paladins in their Lions. “Hunk, you and Yellow are on retrieval duty. You’ve got Shiro’s signal?”

“Loud and clear,” the Yellow Paladin answered back, voice loud over the comms.

“Pidge, you and Green stay cloaked and observe from the atmosphere. Keep an eye on the situation and only engage if necessary.”

“You think it’s a trap?” Pidge’s voice was calm and, as always, curious.

“We’re not seeing any evidence of Galra troops or ships, but better safe than sorry.”

“Gotcha. Green and I will keep an eye out.”

Keith could hear the grin in the Green Paladin’s voice. “And I’ll just bet you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve just in case.”

“I’ve been making some modifications,” Pidge admitted.

Keith heard Allura chuckle as he dropped communications so the Lions could take off. “Pidge is going to figure out a way to form Voltron with just Green and some of Coran’s food goo, just you wait,” he said as he watched their descent toward the planet on the screen. Allura gave him a strange look before turning her attention back to her monitors. He thought about asking her what was wrong, then shrugged. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him.

Keith wasn’t one to pry. He hated it when people tried to force themselves inside his head, tried to make him talk. He wasn’t about to subject anyone else to that kind of torture.

Allura’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Keith, I want you to be prepared,” she began tentatively, then stopped suddenly.

He looked up from the console, brows knitted in confusion. “For what?”

The princess turned to face him, her eyes bright with concern. “Shiro.”

He felt the muscles in his shoulders tense; he couldn’t help it. “What about Shiro?” His voice came out low and even, surprising him with how steady it sounded considering the quivers running through his bones.

She swallowed, looking away from him. “He was injured when we found him on Zarkon’s ship. In the fight with Haggar.”

“Yeah.” Hunk had told him already. Shiro had sounded fine to Keith when Black Lion had picked up Red after Keith’s fight with Zarkon, but Keith knew just how good Shiro was at hiding his pain.

“Then you know that complications could have arisen in the time it has taken us to find him.”

Keith stiffened. Red, feeling his tension, growled in the back of his head. “I understand,” he told her, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Shiro would be fine. He _had_ to be.

“Do you?” she asked softly.

Running a hand through his hair, Keith bit back his angry response. Allura didn’t deserve it just for caring about him. “I do. Shiro might be in bad shape. I get it.”

“I know you two are . . . close.” She hesitated on the last word, as if unsure if that was what she wanted to call it.

Keith closed his eyes. There it was. The assumption, the question, the niggling whispers behind closed doors. What was Shiro to Keith? What was Keith to Shiro? Were they _together_? His heart beat heavily in his chest and he was suddenly exhausted, so tired of dealing with trying to name what he felt for Shiro, of having to explain what Shiro was to him.

Shiro was Shiro. He was home and brother and friend and commander and compatriot. He was Keith’s other half. Keith loved him—not sexually or romantically, not like everyone thought—and knew without question that he belonged beside the man. That was good enough for him.

“It’s not like what you think,” was all he said.

“Keith, I don’t think anything,” Allura said, a slight smile quirking her lips. “It is none of my business what Shiro is or is not to you outside of your ability to pilot the lions.” Her shining eyes held his for a brief moment. “I simply wanted you to be prepared. I do not want to see you hurt.”

Keith nodded, uncomfortable with her regard. All of this was new to him—the strange closeness of Allura, Coran, and the other paladins. He’d never had much of a family before and had never felt comfortable with people. To have someone worried about him, concerned for his well-being who wasn’t Shiro was as alien to him as the Galra. He didn’t know what to do with any of it. At times, he felt so overwhelmed by all of the _caring_ that he had to escape to his room for a break.

“It will be fine,” he told her, wishing he felt more confident. Crossing his arms over his chest, Keith turned his attention back to the comms.

“Any sign of Black, Hunk?” he asked the pilot of Yellow Lion.

“Nothing yet,” came the static-filled reply, “but the signal is strong.” There was a pause and then Hunk broke through, excitement in his voice. “Wait, I see Black. And Shiro! They’re both okay!”

Keith rested his palms against the console, feeling the cool metal against his skin. He let out the breath he’d been holding, some of the tension leaving his body in a rush. The knot he’d been holding in the pit of his stomach for weeks uncurled a bit.

Shiro was okay.

He and Black were coming home.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had planned to finish this story before Season 2 came out. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. That totally didn't happen because life can be a total bastard sometimes. The plot outline was speculation about where Season 2 might go. I went with Dark Shiro, but obviously that didn't happen. Figured I would still finish it out and post it though.

When Shiro got out of the healing pod, Keith was waiting. Before the man could take more than two stumbling steps, Keith was there, propping his arm up under Shiro’s shoulder and guiding him to a chair. His relief at seeing Shiro alive and whole hit him with the force of a comet. When Hunk had brought him in, half dead and babbling nonsense, the wound in his side glowing a sickly purple from Haggar, Keith had locked up. His words had died in his throat. The idea that he could lose Shiro again was unthinkable.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as Shiro rubbed at his eyes. 

“Alive.” The Black Paladin sounded relieved. Keith watched as Shiro rubbed at the back of his head, scratching at the short hairs there. “What have I missed?”

Keith helpfully filled him in on everything that happened in his absence. Shiro listened calmly, stopping only to sip from the hydration pouch Keith offered him. “So no sign of Zarkon?”

Shaking his head, Keith leaned against the console. “No, not yet.” 

It bothered Keith that there hadn’t been a peep of Galra activity of late. He knew he and Red hadn’t hurt Zarkon that badly; he could only attribute the quiet on Haggar’s interference with the wormhole. They hadn’t any idea where they’d be thrown out, so there was probably no way for Zarkon to predict it either. 

“I should go talk to Allura,” Shiro said, climbing to his feet. Keith straightened ready to steady him, but Shiro waved him away. “I’m fine, Keith. Don’t worry about me.”

Keith opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, unable to find the words. He’d always worry about Shiro. Shiro was stability and warmth and home. He watched as the man left the infirmary without a backward glance.

Odd. He put it down to the general disorientation of waking up after the healing pod. Shiro wasn’t normally so dismissive of him, but the man had nearly died. Keith didn’t want to be needy or a burden. He took himself off to the training deck to practice.

***

“So what you’re telling us is that Zarkon used to be the pilot of the Black Lion?” Lance sounded incredulous. “Like, he used to form the head of Voltron!” His voice climbed higher, making Keith wince. “And you didn’t think we should know?”

Allura stared down the Blue Paladin with fire in her eyes. She did not like being challenged, it was evident to anyone with working eyes. But Lance—and Keith couldn’t believe he was thinking this—was right. She should have told them—at least told Shiro—of who Black’s previous pilot had been. 

“That’s not it at all!” Allura said in a calm voice as she tried to talk over Lance’s screeching. “Coran and I had every intention of telling you. We were waiting for the proper moment!”

“It would have been good to know that before we brought the Black Lion into the middle of his fleet!” Shiro’s voice rang out, the condemnation in it surprising Keith. “How are we supposed to defend the universe if we don’t have all of the relevant information?”

Allura lowered her gaze to her feet, shoulders slumping. “I know, and I’m sorry. I just thought that with everything being so new and with the five of you trying to bond it would put an unnecessary strain on all of you.”

“You withheld vital information.” Shiro’s voice was like a hammer blow. “We could have all been killed for your carelessness.”

Keith flinched. This wasn’t like Shiro, not really. Oh, he’d chastise someone for a bad decision, but he’d been the one to insist on going to find Allura after she’d been captured. Even Keith’s arguments had fallen on his deaf ears. But this wasn’t normal. To call the princess careless? She was one of the most concerned people Keith had ever met. He didn’t like the fact that she and Coran had hidden Zarkon’s paladin status, but in a way he understood it.

“Whoa, I wouldn’t go that far,” Lance said, gaze darting between Allura and Shiro nervously. Everyone in the room stood tight with tension. 

“Yeah, Shiro.” Hunk shared a glance with Pidge, who nodded. “These are her lions after all.”

“They are not her lions!” Shiro snapped. “Not when we’re the ones risking our lives flying them. Keith nearly died fighting Zarkon!” 

All eyes turned to Keith, making him immediately uncomfortable. He held up his hands, palms out. “Shiro, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s over now and we know.” He stared at his friend closely. Shiro never lost control like this, never lost his temper to this degree. Keith didn’t blame Allura, but it sure seemed like Shiro did.

“I am sorry, paladins,” Allura said, her voice breaking the quiet that had fallen over the group. “It was never my intention to mislead you. I truly thought it was in your best interests that it be kept from you, at least for a little while.”

“How about you let me decide what’s best for my team?” Shiro interrupted, stepping forward. Allura gasped at his harsh words.

Before he realized it, Keith was in front of the Black Paladin, blocking his view of the princess. He couldn’t say why he did it, only that he knew this wasn’t right. Shiro must have become locked in some PTSD-fueled rage and he was taking it out on Allura. If he kept on, he might do irreparable damage to their working relationship. “Come on, Shiro,” he said, putting his hand on the man’s broad shoulder. He could feel it twitch, the muscles corded like cables, beneath his hand. “Let’s go take a walk.”

Shiro blinked down at Keith and passed a hand over his eyes. For a moment, a brief millisecond, Keith thought he saw something avid and dark move across Shiro’s face. Then whatever it was disappeared, and it was just Shiro standing before him, looking exhausted.

He looked around at the other paladins, then at the princess. “Sorry guys,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Get some rest,” Allura said in a cool, detached voice. “We’ll talk more when you’ve slept.”

“Thanks, Princess.” Shiro threw her a grateful smile and turned to leave.

Keith followed, but not before one last glance at the princess. Allura worried at her lower lip, digging at it with even, white teeth as she stared after Shiro. He saw the concern plain on her face. Then she caught him looking and her demeanor changed. She straightened her shoulders and nodded briefly at him before turning to answer Pidge’s questions.

Keith hurried after Shiro. “Hey,” he said, catching up to the Black Paladin after a short run. “What was that about back there?”

“Nothing,” was all he got in response. Shiro didn’t stop or even slow down.

“That wasn’t nothing,” Keith said, and grabbed his friend’s arm to get him to turn so he could see his face.

He found himself slammed against the wall, Shiro’s fingers digging into his upper arms through the fabric of his jacket hard enough to leave bruises. Shiro glared down at him, his dark eyes a maelstrom of rage. Keith swallowed, his mouth gone desert dry. 

“Shiro?”

Shiro let Keith go so suddenly that the young man staggered. His knees were wobbly. The Black Paladin turned and hurried down the hall. “Just let it go, Keith!”

Keith didn’t follow.


	4. Chapter 4

Shiro wasn’t right. He hadn’t been right since they’d all gotten back to the Castle of Lions after being separated by Haggar’s corrupted wormhole. Allura and Coran had run a battery of tests on every one of the Paladins, and most of them had to spend some time in the healing pods, but they’d all gotten clean bills of health.

  
But Keith knew Shiro. Not as well as he had a year ago, before the Kerberos mission and Shiro’s time as a Galra prisoner; now the man was a minefield. Keith had to navigate the tricky confines of his tattered memories and hope he didn’t set something off inside Shiro’s head. But the core of who and what Shiro was remained the same. Keith trusted in that.

  
He just had to figure out what was going on with his friend.

  
Keith sat in the pilot seat of the Red Lion, running a diagnostic check on Red’s sensors to make sure everything had been repaired properly. Everything told him that Red was in prime working condition, and Keith eased back in his chair, grateful. Red had been badly damaged in the fight with Zarkon and the subsequent crash.

  
“Ready to go for a ride?” he asked, pleased when Red hummed her affirmative in the back of his mind. Her consciousness was like a banked fire inside of him—warm and welcoming.

  
Allura’s voice over the com interrupted anything else he might have said. “Keith, have you been in contact with Shiro today?”

  
“No, Princess.” Keith felt his heartbeat pick up in alarm. “He wasn’t at breakfast. Is something wrong?”

  
“He missed a meeting. I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  
“Let me look for him.” Keith jumped up from his chair, already making for the Lion’s exit.

  
“Thank you, Keith. I know he’s been under a great deal of stress and I think it best if you seek him out. You have a. . . close bond with him.”

  
Keith rolled his eyes at the tone in Allura’s voice. He’d heard it before at the Garrison. Yes, he did have a bond with Shiro, though he wasn’t entirely sure how much the man remembered of his time there. Keith didn’t need to push; he knew Shiro would remember everything eventually, just as he knew that Shiro knew Keith was there for him, no matter what.

  
He supposed Allura had a right to be curious though. She was still trying to decipher Earth relationships and their meanings. Keith wasn’t entirely sure how to tell her that his relationship with Shiro was just as confusing to those on Earth. He wasn’t even sure Alteans had asexuals.

  
“I’ll be back, Red.”

  
He stopped when he heard the Lion’s rumble of unease. Images and impressions flowed along their link: uncertainty, worry, and the feeling of undefined danger.

  
Keith’s head snapped up, instantly alert. “What is it, Red?”

  
He got the distinct impression of a warning, a mental Be careful from his lion. Brushing aside his nervousness, he waved to Red as he hurried out of the hangar. Red was protective and probably worried about Shiro just like Keith was.

  
Keith checked Shiro’s usual haunts: his bedroom, the observation deck, Black’s hangar. He saved the training room for last, and it didn’t surprise him to find Shiro, dressed in his paladin uniform, fighting several gladiators. He waited for a few moments, not wanting to open the doors and disturb or distract the man in the middle of a trainings session. Keith knew better than anyone how dangerous those gladiator bots could be and he didn’t want to pull Shiro’s focus and risk hurting him.

  
Shiro stumbled, going down on one knee, and Keith dashed inside before the black paladin’s knee even hit the floor. He had his bayard out, sword in hand, rushing to Shiro’s aid. The man shook his head as if trying to clear it, but Keith hadn’t noticed him taking a blow to the head.

  
Keith ran, desperate to interpose himself between the bot and Shiro as he’d done countless times before in training and in battle when the man’s PTSD flared up. But before he made it halfway across the training deck, the gladiator kicked Shiro in the chest, launching him into a wall.

  
“End simulation!” Keith shouted, but the AI ignored him. Shiro had probably keyed it to his vocal commands for this training session, something incredibly dangerous at higher settings.

  
“Damn it,” he muttered, sparing a look at Shiro who sat crumpled on the floor. As much as he wanted to run and check on Shiro, Keith knew he needed to disable the two gladiator bots remaining before he could risk it.

  
He came in low, his sword dipping in an arc designed to cut an enemy off at the knees. The bot couldn’t counter fast enough, not with Keith’s incoming momentum. It crashed to the floor, and Keith stabbed his sword into the thing’s metal chest. The floor opened beneath the disabled bot to remove it from the field of combat. That just left one.

  
It swung its own sword at his head, but Keith ducked beneath it. It was fast, almost too fast, but Keith’s concern for and need to get to Shiro gave him greater reserves of strength and speed. He led the bot as far away from Shiro as he could with feints and measured attacks until they were nearly at the opposite wall from the other paladin. Keith attacked, using his best sword work to end the bot quickly, but everything he threw at it was parried and pushed back.

  
Kicking off from the wall, Keith came in from overhead and at an angle. His sword sheared through the metal of the bot’s head, dropping it to the floor. Landing lightly on the balls of his feet, Keith pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “End training sequence. Rest mode,” he ordered.

  
Now that the bots were disabled, the AI obeyed him. “Rest mode activated.”

  
Keith breathed a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about another gladiator rising from the floor to attack them. Now he could see to Shiro.

  
Dismissing his bayard, he ran to his friend. “Shiro!”

  
No response.

  
Skidding to a halt, Keith knelt in front of the man. He reached out and gently shook Shiro’s shoulder.

  
Shiro’s Galra hand grabbed his wrist so tightly his bone ached, yanking Keith’s arm behind his back. Keith cried out in surprise as Shiro slammed his face into the floor, his knee digging painfully into the small of his back.

  
“Shiro?” Keith choked out, pain radiating out from his shoulder, so painfully twisted he wondered how it hadn’t dislocated.

  
A low growl answered him. Fear flared inside of Keith like a firework, setting his nerves alight. He tried to twist his head around, but Shiro’s other hand pressed against the back of his head. “Shiro, it’s Keith,” he pleaded the man as the hold on his wrist tightened.

  
His friend had to be deep in a PTSD episode. Keith had been foolish and careless to touch him. It was likely Shiro was caught in a memory, not really seeing Keith at all. He just saw a threat. Sweat soaked the back of Keith’s shirt as fear snapped his muscles taut. He got the impression of Red roaring in the back of his mind as he tried to control his emotions. He needed to stay calm.

  
“Shiro, come on, man. Come back. You’re not there anymore.” Keith gasped as Shiro hiked his arm up higher. “Please, Shiro. You’re hurting me.”

  
He thought he heard a slight chuckle from behind him. It chilled him, made gooseflesh rise on his exposed skin. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

  
“Shi—” he choked out, only to have his face pressed even harder into the floor. His cheekbone and temple ached from the force of Shiro pushing down on him. “Stop it!” He flailed out with his empty hand, but couldn’t connect with anything.

  
“Keith?”

  
Shiro scrabbled back. Keith breathed in relief as the weight on him left. He lay on the floor for a few moments, catching his breath and letting the fear bleed out of him and into the cold floor of the training deck. He rested his forehead on the deck briefly, desperate to recapture his equilibrium. He trusted Shiro. It wasn’t his fault he was torn up inside, at the mercy of unpleasant memories and experiences.

  
“Oh my God, Keith!” Shiro sounded horrified.

  
Keith pushed himself up slowly, rotating his shoulder to relieve some of the soreness and test for range of motion. “It’s okay, Shiro,” he told him, not able to meet his friend’s eyes just yet. “I’m okay.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “You didn’t mean it.”

  
“Did I hurt you?”

  
Hurt was relative. Keith could handle the physical pain of Shiro’s attack. The emotional toll was something else. He missed his friend. Desperately. He felt like he was losing parts of Shiro piecemeal, a slow death by small amputations.

  
“It’s fine,” Keith told him, blinking hard, feeling the tears he’d been hiding for months close to the surface.

  
Glancing up, he saw Shiro watching him closely. The man sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his knees. He made no move to touch Keith, but that was to be expected. His expression was serious, worried.

  
But Keith swore he saw a glint of quintessence yellow in those dark eyes as they looked at him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters left. I've signed up for the Sheith Big Bang, so that's where I'm spending my time. I've already got over 12k written for it, so I'm trying to finish this up in order to keep focusing on that one.

Keith examined Red’s systems carefully, enjoying the quiet time with his lion. As much as he loved flying with her, he appreciated the times he got to sit in the cockpit and bask in the warmth of her presence and energy. He loved the feel of her in the back of his mind, like a fire banked, the embers still burning beneath a light layer of ash, ready to burst into flame.

“Everything seems to be in good shape,” he told her, as if she wasn’t acutely aware of her own tech. “Anything bothering you that I should know about?”

She purred inside his skull, the sound deep and resonant. Keith sent her a mental image of a lazy cat being scratched under the chin. Approval colored their link a bright yellow. Keith chuckled. “I’ll need a much bigger hand to do that to you,” he warned.

Red sent him an image of her nudging his hand with her head. Keith smiled, sending affection across their mental link. He didn’t know how the other lions felt about their paladins, but Keith was so grateful that Red had chosen him. He had no clue what kind of magical science mysticism had gone into created such wonderful beasts—all he knew is that he couldn’t imagine his life without Red in it.

A growling suddenly filled his mind, but not directed at him. What then? Red was temperamental, but she always had a reason behind it. Keith peered out the Lion’s eyeshields and saw Shiro had entered the Red Lion’s hangar.

“It’s just Shiro,” he told her, standing up from the chair.

The growling subsided but didn’t wholly disappear. Keith felt a prickling at the back of his neck. Red had never growled at Shiro or his presence before. Just one more piece that he couldn’t seem to make fit in the puzzle that was Shiro now.

An impression of warning, of caution, flashed inside his mind as he stepped out of the mouth of his Lion to greet the Black Paladin. “Did you need something, Shiro?”

Keith waited. Shiro didn’t turn around for a long moment. He could still feel Red’s watchful presence, watchful, in the back of his mind. “Shiro?”

Finally, Shiro turned. “Keith?” He sounded confused.

Unease churned in Keith’s stomach. Shiro’s face was flushed, his gaze abstract. “Are you feeling okay?”

Shiro looked around, uncertain. He shook his head once, and Keith thought he saw a glint of yellow in Shiro’s normally dark eyes. “Hey,” the older man finally said, still looking confused.

“Is there something that you needed?” Keith felt Red at the back of his mind, watching. His shoulders tightened.

Straightening, Shiro gave him a shaky smile. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, after what happened in the training room.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his Galra hand.

Keith’s hand strayed to his shoulder, the one Shiro had hiked behind his back so sharply he’d nearly dislocated it. Shiro’s dark eyes followed the movement, a stricken expression crossing his face. Keith dropped his hand, guilt filling him. It had been a flashback, that’s all. Shiro hadn’t meant to hurt him, and Keith felt terrible about making him feel bad about it.

“I’m fine,” he said, the lie tripping too easily off of his tongue. He ignored Red’s rumble of disapproval. “How are _you_ doing?”

It seemed like this was all they did now, check on each other. Keith didn’t regret it, but he’d be lying if he didn’t miss talking about other things, like they had back at the Garrison. If they weren’t asking after each other’s mental or physical health, they were talking about Zarkon and how to bring down the Galra empire. Keith missed talking about flight theory or music or books. Hell, even bitching about the food goo would be a welcome change.

“I’m g—” Shiro was cut off by the castle’s alarms.

“Paladins, to your lions.” Allura’s voice echoed over the castle’s coms. “We’re under attack.”

Shiro turned and took off to Black Lion’s hangar. Keith watched him go, feeling a strange mix of relief and fear as the Black Paladin’s back faded from his view. Red allowed him a few moments before giving him a gentle mental nudge. Shaking his head, he made his way back to his lion, shoved on his helmet and launched.

***

The coms sounded like a wrestling match. Pidge swore like a lumberjack at Lance as they took on a Galra cruiser, Hunk shouted every time a blast came too close to his heavily armored lion, and Keith growled in frustration as he dodged and wove between a ridiculous number of Galra drones.

“They’re transmitting something,” Pidge shouted, “but I can’t tell what it is!”

“Probably our coordinates,” Lance answered. Blue spat out an ice beam.

“Then we need to be long gone before reinforcements arrive. Or Zarkon.” Hunk sounded like he was going to hurl.

“Capture the transmission if you can, Pidge,” Keith suggested. “We’ll figure it out later.”

Only Shiro was remarkably quiet.

Where was Black anyway?

“Any of you see Shiro and Black?” Keith called out, blasting a handful of drone ships to atoms with his heat beam.

“Little busy right now,” came Lance’s call, followed by a curse.

“Could really use some help over here,” was Hunk’s reply as he took on a battle cruiser by himself.

“On my way,” Keith said, reversing course. “Shiro, come in. You there?”

Shiro’s voice crackled through a rush of static. “I’m here. Black isn’t responding.”

“Status?”

“I’m below you guys, at your eleven o’clock. Keep them busy while I try to figure out what’s wrong.” Shiro sounded breathless, like he’d been running a race. Keith wondered if the other pilot was having a panic attack.

Keith just had to hope Shiro would be okay for a little while longer. They needed to disable those cruisers before they could even hope to get Shiro, and with Voltron out of commission, that meant doing it the old-fashioned way. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sit tight.”

Keith raced Red to join Hunk. Yellow Lion was a melee brawler, especially with its enhanced armor and booster jets. Keith hit the cruiser from a distance, Red relying more on agility and speed. He kept the drones off of Hunk and Yellow and kept the cruiser’s guns busy while the Yellow Paladin dismantled the ship with teeth and claws.

The cruiser exploded in a fiery red blossom. Hunk flew back to hover near Red and Keith. “Nice job,” Keith complimented, scanning space for more targets. Pidge and Lance were tag-teaming their cruiser, combining their lions’ ice and plant powers to devastating effect.

“Wait, no! Look out!” Shiro’s voice came howling over the coms, disjointed and interspersed with garbled static.

Keith was already moving, forcing Red into a dive and dodging around the space debris. Hunk and Yellow were slower to respond. The laser blast from Black caught the yellow lion across its right flank. Hunk shouted over the coms at the impact.

“Shiro, what are you doing?” Lance cried out.

“Hunk!” Keith called, heart in his throat.

“I’m okay,” Hunk said, voice shaking. “But that hit messed up Yellow.”

“I don’t know what’s happening!” Shiro shouted, his voice going in and out of hearing. “Black’s not responding to me. I didn’t fire that blast!” His voice dropped out entirely for a few seconds, only to come back with Shiro practically screaming, “—thing is working!”

“Hunk, can you pilot Yellow back to the castle?” Keith asked, keeping an eye out for more stray fire from the black lion.

“I think so, yeah,” the yellow paladin responded. “The armor is damaged, but flight systems are still functioning.”

Keith nodded to himself. “Okay, head back and have Allura and Coran check out your and Yellow. Pidge, you and Lance finish up. I’m going to go and get Shiro and Black.” He felt a warning rumble from Red, but he ignored it for the time being.

“Got it,” Pidge said. “Be careful. Something weird is going on.”

Keith smirked. That was an understatement. He didn’t understand why Shiro’s com seemed to be the only one malfunctioning when everyone else’s worked just fine. As for why Black had suddenly stopped responding to her Paladin, well, that was anyone’s guess. Keith’s bet was on Zarkon though. He and Haggar had some hold over the lion, and it didn’t help that the Galra still had the Black bayard in his possession.

“I copy.”

He flew low, dipping down below the debris field, careful to keep cover between him and Shiro. Red was more maneuverable than Yellow, but Keith didn’t want to get careless. Two lions out of commission was more than enough of a headache; they didn’t need to add a third to the list.

Black floated, dead in space. Even her eyes were dark. She didn’t appear to have been hit—Keith saw no signs of damage on the lion’s hull. She just looked . . . switched off or something.

“Shiro, I’m going to tow you back to the castle.”

“Keith!” Shiro sounded on the edge of panic, a far cry from his usual level-headed leadership style. Something was definitely wrong even outside of Black’s unresponsiveness. “I don’t know what happened! Is Hunk okay?”

“He’s fine,” the red paladin soothed. He needed Shiro to calm down. Keith wasn’t sure if Black was still functioning enough to pick up on her pilot’s agitation, but if she was, it wouldn’t help her. “We need to get you out of there and see what’s going on. Hang on, okay.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Shiro muttered.

Keith had Red grab hold of Black and began the slow haul back to the hangars. He noticed that Shiro kept up a steady stream of comments, his com working properly now. He didn’t know what any of this meant, but he could feel Red’s mounting concern inside his head. Keith soothed her with the image of the chin scratch, and focused on getting them all safely back inside the ship.

He landed Red in Black’s hangar and stepped out of his lion. When Shiro didn’t immediately emerge, Keith hurried over to the black lion and banged on her leg. “Open up!” he called, desperate to get to Shiro so he could figure out what was wrong with his friend.

The lion’s head lowered and the lower jaw swung open slowly. Shiro staggered down the ramp, helmet gone, his Galra hand pressed to the side of his head. He was shaking and covered in sweat.

“Shiro!” Kieth yelled, charging up to meet him and shoving his shoulder under the man’s arm to take some of his weight. “What happened? Did you hit your head or something?” He looked the Black Paladin over but could find no signs of injury.

Physical, anyway.

“I don’t know,” he said weakly. “I’m not sure.” Shiro blinked, looking around like he didn’t know where he was. “The battle’s over?”

Keith nodded, ice settling in a lump in his stomach. “Yeah, I towed you back. She wasn’t responding.” He helped his friend down to the hangar deck, chewing at his lower lip as he tried to make sense of everything. “You mean you don’t remember?”

Shiro shook his head, white forelock whipping about his face. “I have vague flashes. . .,” he trailed off, pressing his hand harder against his temple.

“Headache?” Keith tried to keep the worry from his voice. “Maybe a healing pod might be in order.”

“No,” Shiro said in a rush, shaking his head again, this time more emphatically. “I think I just need to grab some kip.” He stumbled and Keith had to hoist him back to standing.

Keith raised his eyebrows. Shiro never went willingly to rest. Oh, he encouraged everyone else, but when it came to his own self-care, the man was woefully lax. Usually Keith had to force him to sleep instead of pouring over star charts or talking over strategy and history with Allura. For him to say he needed to sleep without being threatened worried Keith more than anything.

Shiro pulled away from him and managed to stand upright on his own. His grey eyes were half-lidded, as if he was in physical pain from having them open even that much. “Go check on Hunk for me, will you?”

Keith dropped his arms to his sides, forcing himself not to reach out to Shiro again. “Sure. I’ll see you at dinner later.”

Shiro waved his hand in a sort of half-hearted dismissal and turned away, leaving Keith alone with the two lions and a yawning sense of dread gnawing at his guts.


	6. Chapter Six

Red’s howl inside of his head woke him. Before he was even fully awake, Keith had grabbed his knife and his bayard and was out of his room, dashing to his Lion. But as he moved, she sent him more information—she wasn’t in trouble, but Shiro and Black were. Keith changed course and ran as fast as he could to Black’s hangar.

He skidded to a stop just inside, barely winded with all of the training he did. Shiro was hunched over, his Galra-tech arm held close to his chest. Keith gently put his hand on the man’s shoulder, feeling the powerful muscles quiver beneath his touch. “Shiro?” He leaned in closer, voice as quiet and unthreatening as he could make it. If Shiro was having a flashback, sounding all freaked out about it wasn’t going to help him.

“Shiro, it’s okay,” Keith whispered, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. Shiro had told him that touch sometimes helped to ground him in his body, made him feel real and present when his mind decided to go walkabout in his darkest memories. “I’m here.”

Shiro whipped around, Galra hand grabbing Keith by the throat. Keith managed a choked off croak before Shiro slammed him against the wall of the hangar. His fingers scrabbling against the glowing metal, Keith tried to make sense of what was happening.

The Black Paladin’s eyes glowed a sickly yellow as he surveyed the young man dangling a foot and a half off the ground. A smirk, nothing like Shiro’s usual expressions, slid across his face. This wasn’t Shiro. Keith didn’t know what had happened, but whoever this was, it wasn’t his friend.

He still had his bayard in hand. Keith activated it, calling forth his sword and swinging it up between them, forcing Shiro to release him. Keith’s feet hit the floor and then the rest of him followed as he gasped for air. He could already feel the marks that the metal hand had left in a ring around his throat.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Keith warned, climbing painfully back to a stand.

Shiro’s laughter was full of cruelty and darkness. Keith knew implicitly that _this_ Shiro wanted to hurt him; more than that, he’d revel in it.

Keith took up his stance. Just because he didn’t want to hurt Shiro didn’t mean he wouldn’t. This Shiro gave him a feral grin and snapped his Galra arm down, the metal of his hand glowing purple. Then he charged at Keith.

It only took a few exchanges for Keith to realize how foolish he’d been. He wasn’t fighting Shiro, the Black Paladin who held back in the training room, who pulled his punches because he was worried about the damage his metal arm could do. He was fighting the Champion, one with a Galra weapon that he used ruthlessly. This Shiro was fighting to kill.

Keith waited, Shiro’s words to him echoing in his head: Patience yields focus. The man before him may look like Shiro, he may have Shiro’s arm, but he _wasn’t_ Shiro. Keith hoped he didn’t have Shiro’s skill at hand to hand.

He didn’t, but Keith realized quickly that skill didn’t matter. His bayard wasn’t making it past that Galra arm and Keith was fighting to immobilize, not kill. He had to pull his lethal strikes, aiming for non-lethal areas. And he had to stay out of not-Shiro’s reach or risk coming in range of that arm. Not-Shiro focused on body shots, working Keith’s ribs every time he got too close.

Red sent him a flash that she had notified the other paladins, something Keith was immensely grateful for. With help, they could subdue not-Shiro and figure out what kind of mind-whammy Haggar had laid on him. Keith just had to hold him in the hangar and not let him get to Black.

“Why are you fighting me? If you came with me, you would be welcomed by Zarkon.” Not-Shiro grinned.

“I’m the Red Paladin,” Keith snapped, breathing hard. The pain in his ribs stabbed at him. “Of course, he’d welcome me!”

Not-Shiro snorted. “That’s not the only reason.”

Keith swept out with a kick at not-Shiro’s body, intending to take advantage of his distraction. It wasn’t enough. Not-Shiro caught his leg and wrapped his arm around it, pulling Keith closer. At the same time he twisted, wrenching Keith’s knee out of alignment. The Red Paladin screamed as his entire leg burned in pain.

Not-Shiro didn’t let go, he just leaned in closer to Keith’s space. “The Emperor would welcome a prodigal child of the Galra home, especially if he came bearing the gift of the Red Lion.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Keith gasped, the pain in his knee making him sick.

“You’ve got Galra blood in you, buddy!” He sounded so much like Shiro in that moment that Keith felt his throat close up with emotion. Not-Shiro’s grin was fearsome, stretching Shiro’s features strangely. “I rooted through all of the paladins’ medical records, but yours were the most interesting by far. How do you suppose it got there?”

Keith felt his heart constrict. No. That couldn’t be right. He was human, born and raised on Earth. He barely remembered his mother before she died, but he knew she was human. And his father definitely was—Keith distinctly remembered the look on the man’s face as he walked out the door of their house that last time. Keith just hadn’t known he’d never see the man again.

It didn’t make sense. Not-Shiro was just messing with his head.

Probably.

With Not-Shiro’s hold on his leg, Keith didn’t have many options to pull away, so he stopped trying. Instead, he reached forward and grabbed Not-Shiro’s head, pulling him forward. Keith’s forehead met his with a harsh crack. The man staggered, his hold on Keith’s leg loosening. Grunting in pain, Keith twisted away, hopping on his good leg to put distance between them.

Not-Shiro looked up at him with a snarl twisting his features. “That. Hurt.” His voice was a low growl, a threat that shook Keith to his bones.

“Shiro! Keith!”

Keith’s head swung around, relief pounding through his chest. Lance and Pidge raced down the hall, Hunk running a bit slower behind them. He thought he caught a glimpse of Allura’s white hair.

“Hang on!” Lance shouted, his bayard out and aiming even as he ran.

Not-Shiro cursed and ran to the control panel, Galra arm glowing purple. Keith moved to stop him, trying to put weight on his bad leg only to have his knee collapse. Catching himself, he moved toward the panel at a hobble, knowing he wouldn’t get there in time, but determined to try to stop Not-Shiro anyway. Pidge and Lance were close. If he could delay Not-Shiro for a few moments, they might make it in.

Keith flung his sword like a javelin, hoping to distract the other man, but he couldn’t plant his feet firmly enough for a good throw. The sword wobbled in the air, embedding itself in the wall beside Not-Shiro’s head. Not-Shiro glanced at Keith, then sliced his hand across the screens, frying the circuitry. The hangar door crashed closed.

Keith could hear Pidge and Lance’s cries, but Not-Shiro had rounded on him. Keith threw a punch, catching Not-Shiro in a lucky blow, but he couldn’t put enough forced behind it to bring the man down. Not-Shiro caught Keith’s arm, jerking it behind him until they both heard the pop of his shoulder dislocating. Keith shouted in pain, even as Lance’s laser rifle shots began to hit the doors.

He could barely focus as Not-Shiro used his hold on his arm to drag him closer to the panel. He slammed Keith’s head into the wall, and Keith went limp, dazed but still conscious. Barely.

“Let’s have a little fun,” Not-Shiro whispered into his ear, jerking his head up painfully by his hair.

Keith’s vision swam and there was a howling in his ears. He could feel Red at the back of his mind, her fury burning along with his own, but everything was at a remove, like he was underwater. Nothing seemed real. His arm was shot, the pain of his dislocated shoulder firing lightning bolts down his arm. He felt dizzy and sick, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and not feel for just a minute. His breath came in shallow pants, the cracked ribs making it hard to take full breaths.

Still, he was a Paladin of Voltron. He wasn’t going to let a little pain stop him. Keith reached up and tried to shove Shiro away with his good hand. The older pilot just laughed.

“You’re a fighter, I’ll give you that,” he said, chuckling darkly. Not-Shiro’s Galra hand clutched Keith’s chin, forcing his face up. “Pretty too.” Not-Shiro licked his lips, a strange expression his face. “I’m surprised Shiro’s been able to keep his hands off of you.”

Keith’s widened. He didn’t like that look, and he liked that comment even less. It reminded him too much of the rumors about the two of them back at Garrison. He tried to move, but between the hand in his hair and the one holding his face, he was stuck. So he did the only thing he could do. He spat in not- Shiro’s face.

“You’re _not_ Shiro,” Keith ground out, baring his bloody teeth in warning.

The backhand Keith received for that bit of defiance nearly knocked his head off. The metal joints of Shiro’s knuckles bit into the flesh of Keith’s cheek, sending blood splashing across the pale skin. He coughed weakly as more blood filled his mouth, unable to do more than choke out gasps around the pain in his ribs.

He was going to die.


	7. Chapter Seven

“I’m not,” he agreed with a gentle smile, wiping away the paladin’s bloody spit with his shoulder. “I’m better.”

Shiro let go of Keith’s hair and the Red Paladin sagged, barely coherent. The boy was pretty still, even marked with violence as he was. Actually, that made him more attractive. He wondered for a brief moment about bringing the young man with him when he returned to Zarkon and Haggar with the Black Lion. She might even give Keith to him as a reward for carrying out his mission so beautifully.

“Black, particle barrier, NOW!” Keith cried, surprising him. He hadn’t expected the Paladin to have the presence of mind left to string together two words, let alone warn the Lion.

In response to the Red Paladin’s call, the Black Lion’s energy field coalesced into being. Not-Shiro dropped Keith to the floor and sprinted to the barrier. Shiro saw the boy try to catch himself on his good hand, barely managing to keep his head from hitting the floor.

“Open up! That’s an order from your paladin!” he shouted at the Lion that sat impassive behind the force field. It refused to let him through, even when he pounded on it with his Galra hand.

He spun, glowing yellow gaze falling on the Red Paladin who lay panting in pain on the floor. His hair spread around his battered face like ink, and rage filled Shiro. He wanted to break that beauty, to see it turn to ash before his eyes. Keith had always been the best in Shiro, something this version of him could not abide.

He ran over to the fallen paladin, jerking the young man to his feet with his hand around Keith’s throat. “Lower the shield,” Shiro warned.

Keith’s violet eyes widened as Shiro tightened his grip, cutting off Keith’s breath. He punched weakly at Shiro’s Galra arm with his good hand. It was futile. Keith wasn’t going anywhere until Shiro allowed it.

“No.” Keith’s voice was barely a sound at all, the dullest rasp forced out around the choking pain of Shiro’s grip.

Shiro rummaged through the memories in his head, of those times before he’d taken ascendancy. He’d been watching at the back of Shiro’s mind the entire time since they’d come out of the healing pod, cataloging every touch, every glance, every moment Keith and the other Shiro had shared. Keith may have been oblivious to what was right in front of him, but Shiro was not.

This would destroy them both.

He lowered the Red Paladin to the floor, looming over the smaller man with his fist still wrapped around Keith’s throat. “Do you know all the times Shiro thought about you?”

Dark brows drew down, confused. “Wha—” Keith began to ask until Shiro throttled the words to silence.

“About what he would like to do to you? What he would like you to do to him?” Shiro smirked. “I always thought it strange that a fiery creature like you would be so cold when it came to _that_ , but Shiro didn’t mind.”

Keith stared up at him with eyes blown wide with panic, his mouth forming soundless words of protest. Shiro brought his face closer, close enough that he saw the delicious fear that blossomed in those lovely violet eyes. “He wanted to fuck that frosty attitude right out of you,” he whispered in Keith’s ear.

Keith’s elbow came up, cracking into the bridge of his nose. Shiro’s whole world went white with pain. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to his face, feeling the blood trickle through his fingers. The little shit had broken his nose!

When the pain subsided, Shiro saw Keith hobbling on one leg a few feet away, trying to get to the doors. Shiro reached out, catching the ankle on the paladin’s bad leg to yank him back. Keith howled in pain as his knee twisted again—a lovely sound to Shiro’s ears—and he fell to the floor. Another shout of pain echoed in the hangar as he landed on his dislocated shoulder. Shiro used his Galra hand to drag him backwards.

Keith spat venom at him, his pained curses filling the air. Shiro ignored him, forcing the younger man onto his back. The Red Paladin struggled, all of his wiry strength brought to bear, but it wasn’t enough, not with his injuries and the advantage of Shiro’s Galra arm. He pressed his metal forearm against Keith’s throat, enjoying the gasp of fear he gave as his breath slowly choked off. Shiro dropped his other hand to Keith’s groin, rubbing against his clothed dick.

It was limp, but that didn’t bother Shiro. He leaned forward and purred, “I was going to wait and do it properly, but maybe I’ll just fuck you here, right now.”

Keith punched at his face weakly, but Shiro moved out of the way. “Shiro’s not like that,” the Red Paladin insisted, an agonized grimace twisting those pretty features. “He wouldn’t _do_ that.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Shiro leered. “Do you want to know how many times he touched himself thinking about you squirming beneath him? How many times he came imagining you naked and wrecked and sobbing his name?” He put his face close to Keith’s, nose to nose. Keith had his eyes closed, a deep line in between his brows.

When he tried to turn his face away, Shiro reached up and grabbed his chin, holding him in place. “How many times he jerked off to the thought of your tears as he stuffed you full of his cock?”

“Fuck. Off!” Keith growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

Shiro smiled. “Don’t like to hear that, do you?” He dropped his hand back to Keith’s groin, rubbing it with his palm. Keith turned his head away once more, and clawed at Shiro’s wrist. Shiro pushed his metal forearm into the Red Paladin’s throat, delighting in the gagging sound he made.

His hand moved from Keith’s pants to the hem of his shirt, pulling up the black fabric to reveal pale skin and taut muscle. Keith struggled to get away, but Shiro paid no heed to his bowing back or pained gasps. He simply applied more pressure to Keith’s neck.

His hand skimmed along the smooth skin, feeling Keith’s abdomen shiver and twitch beneath his fingers. Keith’s muscles felt like silk-covered steel bands. Shiro’s hand moved higher; he took his time, enjoying the feel of Keith beneath him.

“St. . .stop,” Keith rasped. Shiro looked up to see the young man’s eyes were glazed and his face red from lack of oxygen. As Shiro watched, Keith’s pretty eyes rolled back in his skull and the Red Paladin went limp beneath him.

Before he could do more than stare at the unconscious young man, the hangar doors blasted open in a concussion of sound and shrapnel. Hunk stood in the smoking, jagged opening, shoulder cannon held in his hands.

“Get him!” Pidge yelled, green bayard already in motion.

Time to go. Shiro had an emergency pod prepared just in case he couldn’t convince the Black Lion to leave with him. Magically semi-sentient space ships shaped like giant lions could be temperamental sometimes. He dodged Pidge’s strike and took off down another corridor at the back of the hangar.

He’d be back. But he left with the burn of satisfaction that the trust between Keith and Shiro had been irrevocably broken.


End file.
